Tear In Your Hand
by Z-clam
Summary: What happens next. Postfinale. Shifting POVs, but mostly from Summer's.
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: **The OC is not mine. Neither is the title of this fic, which is taken from the title of a Tori Amos song.  
**Warnings:** Spoilers for 2.24 (The Dearly Beloved, AKA the season finale).

**One**

It was Summer who finally called 911.

Marissa had dropped the gun in shock and dropped to her knees, crumpling into a little ball in the doorway and crying her eyes out; Seth just stood there, too shocked, or maybe too scared, to move. Neither Atwood had budged from their fixed spot, so Summer forced herself out of her frozen stupor and opened her cell phone.

She was surprised to hear the sound of her own voice as she told the police where they were. It wasn't shaky or broken, but steady, and she was astonished at her own composure.

She hung up. "They're on their way," she said, softly, as though it was her who needed reassuring. Seth cleared his throat beside her. "I should call Dad," he said hoarsely. Wordlessly, Summer handed him her phone.

As Seth dialed, Summer dropped to her knees and held Marissa. Her best friend shook beneath her arms and Summer embraced her soothingly. She wanted to reassure Marissa, tell her everything would be all right, but she couldn't get the words out. What use would it do? Everyone knew those were empty words.

Summer felt Marissa take a quick gasp of breath. Marissa was quietly mumbling to herself. Summer held her and questioned her silent mantra. "What is it?" she asked, matting down her hair which made her appear even more stunned.

"I'm a murderer," Marissa sobbed quietly.

_Oh god. Oh **god**._ What could she say to that? There wasn't anything to say. It was true, wasn't it?

What was wrong with the world? Marissa Cooper was not a murderer. Ryan Atwood was not passed out on the floor of his dead brother's apartment, with his other brother looking on at loss for breath. And Summer Roberts was not here, right now, in the doorway watching everyone slip away from her as every second passed.

A siren rang out and she forced herself to focus. Seth, who'd stuck her cell phone back in her pocket while she was lost in thought, stopped gasping for breath for long enough to say, in hushed tones, "I didn't know they'd be here so soon."

_Neither did I,_ Summer thought, _and I don't know what to tell them._

Suddenly, she felt very old for only seventeen, and she finally understood the way Ryan always felt, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that it all truly was on her shoulders, but the feeling was all real, and it was suffocating.

The police rushed up to the door and started asking questions. Seth began answering them before Summer had a chance, and he was miraculously not screwing up, so she didn't interrupt. She stared at the floor, the place where Alex's lamp used to be. In that corner, where now there was so much blood. _So much blood. _She couldn't fathom losing that much blood, or even having it in the first place. It was morbid and revolting, but she couldn't look away.

"Miss? Excuse me, miss?"

"Yes?" Summer responded, dragging her eyes from the spot she'd been staring at to look up at the policeman.

"Were you the one who made the call?"

"Yes, sir," Summer responded, almost saying _Officer_ and feeling very cliché.

"Would you all come to the station, please?"

Seth mumbled something and looked at his feet. Summer nodded and Marissa just stared at a fixed spot on the wall with watery, far-away eyes. Summer couldn't remember ever seeing her so disheveled, even in Tijuana.

The EMS workers barged past them. Summer forced herself not to look back as the three conscious teenagers followed the police silently into their car.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Spoilers for season 2 finale (The Dearly Beloved)!**

**Disclaimer:** **Josh still owns the characters. Tori Amos still owns the title.**

**Next chapter coming soon! Sorry for the delay, and thanks for all the nice reviews on chapter 1!**

* * *

The police station was scary, sheerly because Summer had never been in one before. Seth, sitting next to her, squeezed her hand.

"Don't tell them anything," he muttered. "Not until our parents are here. That's what Dad always says he tells his clients, but most of them get caught off-guard and talk anyway. Actually, to them he says 'lawyer,' not 'parents,' but same general idea. Anyway, Dad said he'd be here soon. He sounded really shocked when I told him what happened. Well, I guess that's not surprising – it was pretty shocking. I still can't believe Trey's really dead, you know?" He shook his head and Summer took advantage of the pause to jump in.

"Seth, you already answered their questions at the house."

"Oh, yeah." Seth looked thoughtful. "Well, hopefully that was okay. I don't know. I've never had to remember anything Dad says about work before. Which is a good thing, because then I'd be in trouble with the law a lot, and no one wants that…" He kept going, but Summer stopped listening. At the words 'in trouble with the law,' Marissa had whimpered and seemed to fold in on herself even more, if possible.

Summer started rubbing circles on her best friend's back as she wondered how someone as tall as Marissa could make herself look so small and curled-up. "It's gonna be okay," she whispered over and over. Even if it wasn't true, it was clearly what Marissa needed to hear.

"Guys?" Mr. Cohen, thank _god_. Summer looked up gratefully.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Are you all okay?"

"I think so," Seth says seriously. "I am, and Summer is – she's probably the most okay of all of us – but I'm not sure about Marissa."

"She'll be fine," Summer says, "once she gets over the shock."

"Okay," Mr. Cohen says. "Let's get you guys home."

"Dad? What's happening with Ryan and Trey right now?"

"Well, I'm sure Ryan's at the hospital, and they're probably taking care of Trey's… you know… body." He doesn't look comfortable at all discussing death.

"But is Ryan going to be okay?" Mr. Cohen sighs audibly.

"I don't know, Seth. I didn't see what happened. But I think he'll probably be fine. Right now, we just need to go home and figure things out with your mother and Summer's and Marissa's parents. I've got a call in to the guy who found Ryan's mother the first time, so we'll probably be hearing from her soon."

"Who's going to tell her?" Marissa whispers.

Mr. Cohen sighs again, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. I guess I am. This is a difficult situation for everyone, and we've got to be careful how we tell her. I wouldn't be surprised if she blames Kirsten and me for all of it."

"That's not fair," Summer says. "It's not your fault. It's Trey's."

Marissa looks like she's about to cry again at the memory of being alone with Trey on the beach.

"I know that, and you know that, but Dawn doesn't. And believe me, parents don't want to blame their kids for truly terrible things."

Seth looks indignant. "Then how come you and Mom always blame me for everything?"

"Not now, Seth." Mr. Cohen looks tired. "I'm going to sign you guys out."

The three of them fall silent as he walks over to the police desk.

It seems like forever between the time he opens his mouth and the time he's walking them out to the car, the darkness outside tangible.

Summer wants to say something, to make it right, but for once, she can't think of anything that will work.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Sorry it's taken me so long to update! I was at camp, and this chapter took a while to feel finished. I'm still not entirely satisfied, but figured I shouldn't keep you guys waiting any longer. Next chapter will be quicker, I promise. Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

The baby cried all the time, and Theresa often had dark circles around her eyes from running around taking care of him.

She sometimes wished she hadn't let Ryan go home, hadn't lied to him. But she knew it was the right thing to do. After all, he'd tried to do the right thing by her; shouldn't she do the same?

So running into him in Chino was… surprising, to say the least.

Theresa knew that she had no claim to Ryan anymore. She couldn't tell him and she couldn't hold onto him. So she did what she had to do. She could see in his eyes that what she'd said was what he'd needed to hear.

But if nothing else, she needed to know that everything was all right. Summoning up a deep breath, she dialed his cell phone.

It rang and rang, but there was no answer, and she didn't feel like leaving a message. So she called information and got the Cohens' number.

"Hello?" An out-of-breath Sandy.

"Hi, Mr. Cohen, this is Theresa. I'm calling to speak to Ryan. Is he there?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When Mr. Cohen spoke, his voice was weary and she knew instinctively that whatever was going on there wasn't good. "I'm sorry, Theresa, but he's in the hospital. You can come visit if you want. I'll give you directions."

"What? Why?" Her head was spinning. In the _hospital_?

"It's a long story, but if you feel like coming down, I'll explain everything."

"I'll be there in an hour and a half," Theresa replied, making sure to get directions before she hung up.

Maybe her advice _hadn't_ been the right thing, after all. Or maybe it had nothing to do with her.

Whatever it was, something was very wrong, and Theresa didn't like the sound of it.

"Mom?" She called out.

"Yes, honey?"

"Can you watch Ricky this afternoon? Ryan's in the hospital and I need to go."

Her mother instantly understood. "Of course. Be back by ten."

"I will," Theresa promised, kissing her mom on her way out the door.

The drive seemed to take forever, as she couldn't get the nagging fears out of her head. What could have happened? And was he okay? Surely Mr. Cohen would have told her if it was anything truly serious, but you never know.

She sprinted up to the hospital door and went inside, where a nurse pointed her in the right direction. Then she stopped short.

He was lying on the bed unconscious.

That was it. She had to know what had happened. Right now.

"Hello? Anyone? Does anyone know what's going on here?" She couldn't stop an edge of panic from creeping into her voice.

Ryan's eyes fluttered open. "Theresa? What are you doing here?" he croaked. "What happened? Where am I?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head, unable to answer. She couldn't open her mouth without crying. Finally, she managed, "I don't know." The tears started flowing, full stream.

Ryan reached out and held her to him, which only made her cry more. "It's okay. It'll be okay." She still had no idea what had happened, but she believed him. She always did.


End file.
